I just finished reading one of those "necessary" books. It was the first one on my list of summer books, and I am officially now in Day #3 of my summer reads. Because I'm always in 3 books at a time (yeah, I'm THAT kind of reader), I only put it down a few times in order to stay connected to the writers of the other 2 books, but it didn't sit idle for long.
The author used the first 3/4 of the book to build on the culture of the African people he wrote about, because he knew that understanding the culture was incredibly important for his reader (brilliance). The story follows a strong man, Okonkwo, whose ending could have looked so much differently (spoiler alert). His people were embedded in their false worship; with darkness, women and children beaten at random, black magic, and tradition. His father had been a failure-labeled as a coward-and Okonkwo swore never to be like him. Okonkwo was a fighter and a hard worker, and his father had been neither of these. Okonkwo was a proud man, full of anger and strength; resourceful.
Eventually, his village was visited by a missionary who quickly moved in to live among Okonkwo's people. At first, he was viewed as ridiculous by Okonkwo's people. He didn't do everything right (there so much I need to leave out here, but you really should read it to truly understand the story). He relied on translators, instead of actually learning the language, but he was able to win converts because the light of his message was stronger than the darkness the people had lived in for so long. Sadly, the missionary grew ill and had to be sent home. Even sadder, he was replaced by another missionary who not only refused to learn the language, but even worse, chose to ignore the culture of his neighbors, imposing his own as superior to theirs.
And this is when things fell apart, because words and culture become necessary when you have a message you want others to hear. From working the past 20 years with in and out of country missions, I have learned that, before others can listen to our message, they need to know that you care about theirs as well. They aren't anxious to become a trophy you can claim one day as your own work, but would rather be able to walk alongside you and become your friend.
Things fell apart because people weren't listening, they weren't watching, and there was no humility. At all. And because none of these things were present, the person who probably needed the good news most would later wrap his neck into a noose and hang from a hidden tree at the edge of the village, leaving behind another legacy of shame for his descendants. The message never got to Okonkwo, at least not the good news message. The only one that reached his ears was the same one he had heard all of his life, "You're not good enough", "You are the only one who can defend yourself", and "This life is all you have".
Our message of love and hope gets lost in actions that detach themselves from any semblance of Jesus when judgment, correction, and our sense of order takes the front seat. We think we have to teach, but didn't Jesus use a different way? When Jesus changed the water into wine, didn't He do this simply because they needed the wine? When He touched the leper, didn't He do this because the touch said way more than any words could? And didn't He provide the bread and fish because they were hungry? He hung out at wells and cemeteries because the outcasts needed to hear the good news, and that meant going to them instead of waiting for them to come to you. He was able to teach BECAUSE He was able to listen.
The story in this book identifies everything that is wrong with American evangelism when our method is to impose our way as superior to theirs. The main character in this story never heard the message of grace and love and hope, because that message got lost in translation. He missed the opportunity to ever see the Jesus of the gospel the Bible writes about, because grace never wraps itself around judgment and superiority.
This book was a book about tragedy; a book of hopelessness, and a revelation of the darkness that permeates every soul without the fellowship of the Father, Son, and the Spirit. Those things were not only absent from Okonkwo's heart, but they appeared to be absent from the one who professed to possess them all.
The book: Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe
